Chapter 12
WYNTER
Cookies? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?
That was what she hoped the look on her face expressed when she entered the kitchen to find a smug Grams seated at the table. Apparently, her grandmother wasn’t fazed in the slightest. She went on grinning ear to ear as Jason started pulling out several different kinds of sprinkles.
Isabelle was chattering on about how perfect the frosting was for sugar cookies, and Grams was eating it up.
But it was Marcus who snagged her full attention.
His eyes locked on her the second he came into view.
It was a searing kind of gaze—one that could burn her from the inside out if she wasn’t careful.
Wynter couldn’t move. She told herself she needed to.
She would have given anything to be able to break eye contact with Marcus and move farther into the room.
Why couldn’t she do it?
“Wynter? Are you going to keep standing there or join us?” Grams called over to her, allowing Wynter the distraction she needed from Marcus.
When Jason and Isabelle turned toward her expectantly, she found her footing and closed the distance.
Isabelle scooted closer to Jason, bumping her hip against his.
She stared up at him, hearts in her eyes.
Wynter had heard a few things in town about this latest couple.
According to the gossip mill, Jason was a catch, and it was too bad that he’d been scooped up.
The only good side was that Isabelle had been the one to catch his eye.
Isabelle was beautiful. All of Marcus’s siblings were attractive. Their whole family had hit the genetics lottery. Of course someone like Isabelle would win over a tall hunk of a cowboy.
Wynter’s eyes slid over to Marcus, and she was grateful that for once he wasn’t looking her direction. Jason might have been attractive, but Marcus was a dream. If she could have put all the qualities of a guy on a list, he’d meet every requirement.
But she couldn’t allow herself to think about him that way.
Nope, she’d be strong. Just because he was here in her home decorating cookies for their community didn’t mean she was going to allow herself to be weak. So, she plastered on a smile and reached for the first cookie.
“Jason, how did you get into baking? I hear you prefer the sweets to savory dishes.” Grams kept the conversation going when they shifted into quiet concentration.
Marcus stood at Wynter’s side, and more than once his forearm brushed against hers. Goosebumps racked her body at the contact, and she had to stifle a shiver. There wasn’t enough space around the table to put distance between them, so she was stuck.
Her eyes lifted when she heard Isabelle laugh softly.
Jason glowered at his fiancée, but there was more amusement in it than anything else.
Isabelle had swiped some frosting across Jason’s lips and on his nose.
But apparently, he wasn’t going to take it lying down.
He snaked his arm around Isabelle’s waist and pulled her into him.
Isabelle squealed when Jason moved his face closer to hers. She turned her head, and the frosting on his face rubbed against her cheek.
“Bad move.” Jason laughed. “You could have licked it off me.”
“Ugh. That’s my sister,” Marcus said.
Grams and Wynter snickered, then glanced at each other. There was something in her grandmother’s eyes that seemed to say what Wynter didn’t want to admit.
Wynter wanted what they had. As crazy as it seemed, Wynter wished things were different and she could find someone who could give her what Isabelle had.
The problem was that love didn’t last. Nothing was permanent.
And it didn’t matter how much she wanted what they had; she’d always be worried that the other shoe would drop.
This understanding made up her armor.
And that was what she needed every single time Marcus caught her eye.
Like right now.
He smiled at her and then leaned closer to inspect her angel. “I think you’ve been holding out on me,” Marcus said. “Hey, Jason, I think you might need to hire this one to help out with your cookies at the café.”
Jason glanced over and flashed her a smile. “You’re not wrong, Marcus. Wynter, you’re a natural.”
She ducked her head. “Thanks.”
Marcus nudged her. “None of that.” His voice was lower, husky, even. And it made the hairs on the back of her neck lift. She peeked at him, expecting to see that penetrating stare of his. Instead, he was smiling at her warmly. And why was that worse?
Wynter swallowed hard. “What?”
“Don’t downplay what you’re good at. Especially if it’s frosting cookies.”
She snickered. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting him to say.
“He’s right, girly,” Grams said pointedly. “You have so many talents. You’ve always shied away from the attention of others. Even when you were a little girl.”
“Yeah, well, that seems to happen when everyone in your grade thinks it’s okay to tease you for liking bugs.” She didn’t have the strength to look toward Marcus because he’d been more than aware of how her peers had treated her.
And he’d been the only one to put a stop to it.
Back when she was younger, Marcus had been her protector. He’d been the one she could count on.
Just like now.
The five of them decorated cookies for a good two hours before Grams claimed she was ready to head off to bed.
“Need any help—” Wynter started, but Grams waved her off.
“I’m old. I’m not an invalid. There are still cookies that need frosting. The four of you should keep it up.”
“Actually…” Isabelle grimaced, placing her hand on Jason’s forearm. “It’s getting a little late, and Jason needs to be at the café early to bake the fresh bread for the day. Would you mind terribly if we duck out? We brought two cars, so Marcus can help you finish up.”
Wynter stiffened. “But—”
“Yeah, that’s going to work the best,” Jason added.
Wynter stared at the couple helplessly. Marcus was still at her side, and while she’d thoroughly enjoyed decorating the cookies with all of them, she dreaded spending time alone with him. It wouldn’t take much at all for her to fall under his spell. She’d experienced it first-hand several times.
And yet why couldn’t she bring herself to tell him he should go and she’d take care of the rest on her own? She knew it was dangerous. She knew that Marcus would try something even though he’d agreed to drop the subject.
It was the way he looked at her that gave her all the proof she needed.
So, when the house was quiet and she was sprinkling sugar crystals on the yellow frosted star, she couldn’t help being startled by his low voice.
“Thanks for this.”
Wynter glanced at him and smiled as warmly as she could. “Of course. Turns out I like decorating Christmas cookies.”
His returned smile put her insides into a cyclone of emotion. “Jason and Isabelle are always doing stuff like this. I think it helps my sister make sense of stuff in her own past.”
Frowning, Wynter glanced up at him. Of course she wouldn’t pry, and Marcus was hardly the person who would tell her what he was referring to. He honored other people’s privacy. “I’m glad she’s able to find something that makes her happy.”
“Me too,” Marcus agreed. He put down his knife and faced her, his side bumping against the table. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Wynter’s hands stilled.
“Do you have something you like to do—for happiness’ sake?”
“Oh.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “Honestly, I think I grew out of all the anger I had about the bullies. Not even the memories bother me that much.” She peeked at him from beneath her lashes for only a second, but their gazes collided anyway.
“I think you were in part a reason for that. I always had someone who would stick up for me.”
Always.
Her heart thrummed with the acknowledgement.
Never in all the time she’d known Marcus had he done anything to make her feel less than.
He’d never done anything to make her believe he wouldn’t be there for her.
His loyalty wasn’t something that came easily.
It was hard-earned and worth every drop of blood, every tear shed.
It was unique, and she’d completely shattered it when she’d been the one to put distance between them.
Wynter fought the tears that attempted to cut past her defenses. No crying. Not right now. She refused to show any ounce of it. They were enjoying themselves. She blinked rapidly and flashed Marcus a smile. “What about you? Are sugar cookie decorating events a common theme in your life?”
Marcus’s brows furrowed as he stared down at his cookies.
She couldn’t help but laugh. The cookies with his particular touch weren’t exactly pretty.
The frosting was uneven and often didn’t cover the cookie from edge to edge.
Sprinkles had been tossed haphazardly onto their surfaces, so there were definite areas where they were put on too thick and too sparse in other areas.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his grin lopsided. “I don’t think cookie decorating skills are ever going to be something I excel at.”
“You never know. Practice makes perfect, right?”
Marcus shook his head with a laugh. “Personally, I think that you need to have a modicum of talent to begin with in order to foster that skill. This?” He gestured toward a cookie that looked as though a toddler had had a fun day at preschool. “Proves I don’t have any talent in this sort of thing.”
She laughed along with him. “Okay, so tell me. In the last several years, what have you done that makes you happy?”
His expression went sullen for a moment.
Or maybe it was contemplative. Perhaps a little of both.
He rubbed the back of his neck, and when he met her eyes, all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and apologize for leaving.
He’d needed a friend. He’d needed her as much as she’d needed him.
Of course he wouldn’t say something like that out loud, but it was written all over his face.
Marcus started to say something, then stopped himself before continuing. “I guess I don’t really have anything. I go with the flow. I do what my brother asks me to do. Nothing has really sparked for me…”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s an except coming?” she prodded.
One side of his mouth twitched. “Maybe because there is.”
“And what is it?”
He turned so his back faced the table, and he was staring at the wall behind her. He shoved his hands into his pockets and breathed out a heavy breath. “I think I like fixing things.”
“How do you mean?”
Marcus pressed his lips together and breathed in a deep, settling sort of breath. “Like here. For Nora. I like fixing things around the house. I might not be great at it, but I know there’s potential there. It’s hard to explain.”
“No, it’s not. I understand completely.” Wynter placed a hand on his forearm. “And I think you’re right.”
His focus slid from where she touched him up to her face. He stared at her expectantly.
“That furnace? The plumbing. You might have to look up a few videos to get you started, but you’ve been fixing a lot of stuff that I know I wouldn’t be able to. You have a knack for it. Maybe you should consider going into that line of work.”
He scoffed.
“What?” She laughed. “You’d be good at it, and with some training…”
“Mateo would never want me to do that.”
“What does Mateo have to do with this?”
Marcus opened his mouth, then shut it just as quickly. “Nothing.”
“No. None of that. What does your brother have to do with any of this? It’s your life. Your career. You get to decide what you want to do with it.”
He watched her for what felt like an eternity, and just when she thought he was going to answer her, he lifted a hand and swiped his thumb across the corner of her mouth. She went stock still, waiting, not knowing what to expect next.
“Frosting,” Marcus whispered.
Hot, searing, Marcus’s touch lingered on her skin long after he’d pulled away. It almost felt reminiscent of the time he’d kissed her all those years ago. Worst of all, the heat from his gentle touch was still spreading through her body. She felt the need to move closer, to lean in and…
What, exactly?
Allow herself to explore something she’d told herself over and over was a bad idea?
Yep. That’s exactly what she wanted to do.
And she knew it was only a matter of time before she fell completely under his spell.